The Things We Do When We're Drunk
by pupeez4eva
Summary: America wants alcohol. Russia has vodka...a lot of vodka. The two decide to become drinking buddies for the night.


America was cursing which ever idiot had put in place the law that any person under the age of twenty one could not consume alcohol.

He was also cursing the number on his ID card that told people his age. Nineteen. Goddamn nineteen. It was now his least favourite number. Forget thirteen, nineteen was the new cursed number. He wondered if there was a way he could convince his boss to officially make nineteen the United States unlucky number.

America was way older than any of those humans back in that stupid little bar. He was their country! He should have been showered with alcoholic beverages - instead he had been told that he was 'too young' and, 'would he prefer to have a coke instead?'

_NO, _he didn't want a stupid _coke. _He wanted to get drunk in an actual bar for once in his life, instead of having to hide in his house whenever he felt like getting pissed drunk.

"America?"

Goddammit. Like his day wasn't bad enough...

"Russia" he said, through gritted teeth.

"You seem upset" the other nation observed. "I do not understand. You will be hosting the World Conference meeting soon, yes? I thought you were looking forward to that." That creepy-pleasant smile was on Russia's face. America shivered at the sight of it.

"I want to get drunk" America told him.

"Then why don't you?" Russia questioned.

"Because those assholes won't let me" America scowled. "They think I'm too _young."_

"Then why don't you destroy them?" The horrifying thing was, the other nation looked completely serious.

"Ahh..." America shrugged his shoulders, a disturbed expression crossing his face. "I don't hate them that much..."

"Still. Destroying is good, yes?"

America shook his head, his eyes wide.

"Everyone's inside" he sighed after a moment, trying to get off the topic of destruction. "And they're all drinking and having a great time and I'm stuck out here. I mean, I'd rather be out here than drink a _coke _like some little kid, while everyone else gets drunk."

"What about your brother, Canada?" Russia asked. "He is your age, yes?"

America frowned. "Who?"

Russia thought for a moment. "Hmm...I'm not completely sure."

The two fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"Um..." America glanced at Russia. "Aren't you going to...go inside."

"They do not serve Vodka" Russia replied, calmly. "I only drink Vodka."

"Oh" America glanced down for a moment. "That...sucks I guess."

"It is alright" Russia shrugged his shoulders. "I have plenty of Vodka hidden in my clothes."

America shot him an odd look. "Uh...alright..."

"Yes" Russia smiled. America shuddered. "I never leave home without my Vodka."

"Cool" America glanced longingly at the bar.

Russia, humming softly, reached deep into his scarf and pulled out a big bottle of Vodka. America jumped.

"You keep Vodka in your scarf?!" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes. I told you that - I keep it everywhere" Russia smiled and took a long sip out of the bottle. The liquid made America think of all the more pleasant alcoholic beverages that the world had to offer and his mouth watered.

"Got any Jack Daniels hidden in there?" he asked, hopefully.

"I have Vodka."

"Yeah" America sighed. "I thought so."

Russia took a few more sips of Vodka, before shooting a glance at America. He looked contemplative for a moment; then he handed the bottle to the other nation.

"Your misery is starting to annoy me" he said. "Drink yourself into a mindless stupor."

"I don't want any Vodka!" America said, shoving the bottle away.

"You cannot hold your alcohol very well" Russia nodded his head. "You won't waste much of my precious drink before you will be smiling with drunken idiocy. So drink."

"No!" America glared at the other nation, defiantly.

"Drink!"

"No!"

"Drink!"

"I said _no!"_

"It is the only drink you will be getting tonight" Russia reminded him. America considered this for a moment.

"Okay then" he sighed. "Hand me the bottle."

...

The next morning he woke up in an unfamiliar bed with a throbbing headache and no memory of the previous night. Oh, and an unfamiliar body in the bed next to him.

He turned around and almost screamed. Okay then - not an unfamiliar body.

Russia smiled.

"Vodka does crazy things to the mind, yes?"

This time America did scream.

...

**AN:**

**Okay...so I had this story posted before.**

**And then I decided I didn't like it so I took it down.**

**And now I've decided to put it back up...**

**...anyway, it was originally supposed to be a chaptered fic but I decided to turn it into a one shot. Hope it's okay...and for those who read it before and was wondering why it was taken down...well now you know why :)**

**Hope it was alright.**


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